


The End of the Line

by stateofintegrity



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: M/M, alludes to conversion therapy, alludes to wartime injuries and impotence, tricking the evil Winchesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:13:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26547328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stateofintegrity/pseuds/stateofintegrity
Summary: Charles is home from the war and his parents want him to settle down.
Relationships: Maxwell Klinger/Charles Emerson Winchester III
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	The End of the Line

They are pleased to see their war hero son, cane and all. He has, per a confusing series of telegrams, been recovering in Montana, then Iowa, Missouri, Maine. These do not seem like places that would hold the best physicians, but he seems hale enough. That he brings his nurse - a strong, dark-skinned woman with a Cleopatra nose under the veil of her hat and hirsute hands (perhaps she is German?) strikes them as odd, but not a faux pas over worth fighting the boy; he did as they had planned after all, stuck out a war start to finish. Surely now, all wending shoots are dead in him and he is ready to take his place: proud, respected, blessedly normal. 

Honoria has tears in her dove-grey eyes when she kisses her brother’s cheek (the cane, the limp) but she whispers into his ear, “You dev-devastatingly c-clever thing. He is a t-tiny doll!” 

Over coffee, they press him on the topic closest and dearest to the family breast: marriage and the continuation of the Winchester line. A strange sick smile, almost a smirk, flickers on his lips and dies. “I shall spare you the ugly details of the wounds, mother, father, but suffice it to say that unless the man Honey-vine one day blesses and enriches with her hand takes her name, I fear that the line, ah, ends with me.” 

Horror, denial, white-faced shock: they all make their predictable appearances. Charles assures them that the best war-time physicians in the world looked him over - men he served beside and trusted - as well as his Boston colleagues. “I did do some reading on adoption, however. African American males are at especially high risk of remaining in the system. Or perhaps a Korean? Our chaplain in Korea had connections with orphanages there.” 

He is hurt, they tell themselves, has seen combat and men die. Such things will nurture the odd democratic ideal. They pat his hand, lament, shift attention to the other male Winchesters (cousins, but it needs must serve now) with healthy loins. Charles smiles behind a tea cup; his work is ended and it is time to go. 

*** 

In the car, the divider is up and the driver has been paid not merely for his services but for his discretion. At the bottom of the hill, Klinger leans into him, laughing. “Impotence, Major? Coulda fooled me! I bit my lip so hard it’s bloody.” 

“First, I knew you would enjoy the truly vulgar treat of imagining my, uh, attentions at that awful table. Second, they will now not trouble me ever again about a wife.” He claims Max’s bruised mouth then, worshipping it, slipping his tongue inside.  _ Blood of my blood _ , he thinks, giddy with escape, as the copper taste of his injured lip fills his mouth.  _ I know your taste, your smell, your sighs and your sleeping breaths. Your dreams, your nightmares, every freckle and scar and expression - mine.  _

Klinger chuckles against his mouth, teasing hands brushing down his sides, his hips. “Impotent!” 

“They nearly rendered me so, once. With chemicals. Swore to keep at it if I would not ‘straighten up.’”

Klinger’s eyes fill and tears and kisses alike fall on Charles’ hair, his face. Max won’t balance on his lap (his leg  _ does  _ hurt) but he pushes his head under his chin. “Those  _ monsters… _ honey, why did you see them at all?” 

“It was the last time, darling. A long-needed declaration of independence. Besides, you know well enough that when you are at my side, I see nothing but you.” 

“Want to see me in cream silk when we get home?”

“You finished your copper accents, I take it?” His eyes are hopeful. 

“Yep.” The copper ties are part of a complicated, corset back that, Max knows, Charles will enjoy slowly releasing him from, making love, the entire time, to the back of his neck, face buried in his hair. 

“I worried you, did I not?” he teased the younger man. “You wish to put my claim to the test?” 

Klinger’s grin was both wicked  _ and  _ adoring. “As often as possible, Major baby.”

End! 


End file.
